


They Say The Road Gets Hard

by lostinthesounds



Series: the stars are jealous of the love I have for you [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, Break Up, F/M, Sad, This hurts, clarke doesn’t want bellamy’s family to be exposed, he wants her to stay, so she breaks his heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: After Clarke cuts her arm open playing a game of tag with Bellamy and his little sister, she tries her best to keep it hidden from her mother.Her mother has always been suspicious of her daughter’s boyfriend, so when she eventually finds out that he was the cause of Clarke getting hurt—she wants to investigate  the boy and his family—and Clarke won’t let that happen.If she had to break both of their hearts by leaving him forever, then so be it. His family was worth protecting, she knows how important it is to him.





	They Say The Road Gets Hard

**Author's Note:**

> A second installment into my series about Bellamy and Clarke being an established couple in space! 
> 
> This one is going to hurt. (This also takes inspiration from the first story in this series, but with more angst and a less happier ending. Although, now Abby has a dislike towards our rebel) Enjoy! (Title taken from False God by Taylor Swift, one of my personal favorites. Anyone catching the Lover influences on this series?)

“_Footsteps on the front porch, I hear my doorbell_  
_She usually comes right in, now I can tell_  
_Here comes goodbye, here comes the last time_  
_Here comes the start of every sleepless night_  
_The first of every tear I'm gonna cry_”

** HERE COMES GOODBYE — RASCAL FLATTS **

Bellamy immediately knew something was wrong when he opened his door, barely peeking through incase it was someone he didn’t know. Instead, it was the opposite. He was met with the unfocused, dazed eyes of his girlfriend. 

“Hey,” He whispered, knowing it was late in the night and it was the only thing he could say when she can’t even look at him. “What are you doing here?” 

She pouts, and Bellamy knew that precaution too well. Her lip begins to quiver right away, and she looks to the side to avoid acknowledging him. 

What _was_ happening? Bellamy couldn’t piece things together, trying to stay calm as he stood in silence. Was she angry about getting hurt? Was she in pain? 

He didn’t know. 

“I need to talk to you,” Clarke spoke, wringing her hands together nervously and she takes a deep breath. “I know Octavia is sleeping, but we need to talk _now_.” 

Bellamy doesn’t argue with her urgency and steps into the hallway, closing the door behind him. His heart is pounding against his chest, knowing only _one_ possible explanation for Clarke coming to his home in the middle of the night. 

He reaches out to grab her hands, and grips tightly to give her something to hold onto. 

“If this is what about what happened earlier, I could wake Octavia so she could apologize.” Bellamy suggests, finally taking a look at the white bandage around her upper arm. “We’re both sorry about it anyways.” 

“No, Bell.” Clarke shakes her head, and for a moment she wants to smile because she wasn’t mad about anything. She was having fun, enjoying the noise of laughter from her two favorite people. It was something she couldn’t blame on anyone. “This isn’t about me getting cut on your shelf, it’s about us.” 

“Huh?” Bellamy asks, tilting his head at her words. What could be wrong with their relationship, he thought it was going well. She was the best thing in his life, the one person he trusts. They were good. More than good, _great_ even. “What do you mean?” 

Seeing the tension visibly grow in his shoulders and how hard he swallowed the words he truly wanted to say, it made Clarke sigh with a shaky breath. 

“You know I love you right,” She begins to say, clutching his hands to her chest as Bellamy begins shaking his head back and forth vigorously. “I’ll always love you, Bellamy. Please, you have to know that. But—“

Bellamy cuts her off, pulling his hands away abruptly and rubbing them against his face. He had to feel something, as his heart grew numb. 

“_Don’t_ finish that,” He warned. “Don’t tell me that you’re breaking up with me.” 

Clarke’s voice is shaky, not knowing what else to say other than: “It’s something I _have_ to do, Bell.” She emphasizes, as she watches him take a step back from her. 

Like he didn’t want anything to do with him, like she broke him entirely before the words came out of her mouth. 

In the silence of the space around them, it felt as if they were the only two to exist. It wasn’t her intention, but if she didn’t do this now, then her mother would get to Bellamy first. How could she explain why her mother would be the cause to his family being torn apart? It was something she couldn’t bring herself to do, so she’s leaving him _before_ it could get to that point. 

She wished that it was only her and Bellamy, because then they wouldn’t have this problem. So that she’s wouldn’t have to ruin the one thing that made her happy, that made her feel something. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy pleads her name, he blinks more than usual trying to keep his tears inside. He’s walking towards her again but endless questions scattered across his mind. “What is this really about?” 

He always knew when something was wrong, but Clarke had to be strong. She had to tell him the truth, and tear herself away from Bellamy before he had a chance to tell her it would work out in the end. Before, he could _convince_ her that they could figure out something that wouldn’t break them apart. 

Clarke puts her hands out in front of her to create a barrier between them, she struggles to find the words to say. She would break if he got any closer, and luckily, he stops in his tracks. 

“My mom, she knows.” Clarke wipes under her nose, and then the tears that fall after. “She knows how I got the cut and _where_, but I told her not to worry.” 

“Does she know about Octavia? Or my mother?” Bellamy asks softly, as if his heart wasn’t breaking in two. As if his only thoughts were consumed by heartbreak, or the sight of Clarke crying in front of him. He was a brother first, and always has been. 

Clarke shakes her head, “Of course not, I just told her I was with you.” 

It makes him feel slightly better, but now, he was only thinking about the fact that Clarke wanted to leave him. It would turn his world upside down, shatter any belief that he could have _one_ small thing to make him feel like his life wasn’t falling apart. She was the first person to make him laugh other than Miller, the first girl that made Octavia smile, the _first_ girl that would bring his sister snacks and sneak them into her bed when she was asleep. Bellamy loved her more than anything, and she kept him afloat in his life of caution. 

It grows silent, and for a second Bellamy thinks that she would walk straight into his arms and hug him tightly and say that she would never let go. That she was sorry for scaring him, for breaking him in half and leaving him without a heart. But she didn’t, she stood there looking at the ground with a daze. It was what he wanted her to do, he realized. 

Not what she was going to do, he _also_ realized. 

He’s itching to step closer, to keep her to himself. If they were anywhere else but a ship in the middle of an orbit, he would take her and run away. He also knew how smart she was, how she was being safe with keeping a distance. They were each other’s weakness, yet also their strength, and for Bellamy: Clarke was his everything. 

It was more than difficult to live his life, to be happy without Clarke around. He would always put on a smile for his sister and make her laugh, but deep inside, Bellamy was _broken_ knowing that his sister was forced to live her life under the floor where he only sees her for a few hours of the day. He would tell her to be quiet if she laughed too loud, or warn her of any noises outside their apartment. 

It was when he met Clarke, when she came into his life like a beacon of hope that he needed to forget the world he lives in for a little while. Bellamy feared that if she left him, he wouldn’t be the man he truly wanted to be. He didn’t need to walk on his toes, anxious to turn his head in the hallway just incase someone followed him. Not when he’s with Clarke. 

Bellamy watches closely as she curls into herself, arms crossed in front of her to keep her from acting on her instinct to disobey her mother. She reminds herself that she has to do this for him, she has to leave to keep Bellamy safe. 

Clarke sighs, “I just didn’t want you to think that I wanted to leave you, that it’s something I have to do. Please, tell me you understand.” Her voice is rough, full of emotions that she can’t keep inside any longer. 

“I understand.” Bellamy assured, but as his heart breaks, he finds other words to say. “But, I also don’t wanna leave you.” 

She had to be obedient to her mother, of course he knew that. He just didn’t know if he could go on without her—if he could handle seeing her around with no ties to her, not being able to talk to her—and that _scared_ him. 

He could lose Octavia. 

He could lose his _mother_. 

Just because he wants to be loved, and happy. Bellamy runs his hand in his messy curls, the result of being woken up by Clarke’s knocking on his door. He doesn’t want to watch her leave, but he knows he would have to. He barely sleeps enough as it is, having been promoted to a guard shift in the Phoenix ward, and it always feels like he sleeps with one eye open at all times. Aware of any one who knocks, who walks past their door at night, who could expose his sister. 

In a quick notion, Bellamy loses his self control and tugs Clarke’s arm so that he could hold her. _Even for one last time_. He wraps both arms around her waist, not wanting to lose himself in the sounds of the shaky cries that threaten to pass her lips when he does so. 

“Tell me something,” He whispered, eyes wide and drawn to her’s. Then, his hands graze her cheeks and cup them so she could look at him. “Can I still see you? As friends?” 

He’s already accepting the worst. He’s letting her go, no matter how much it _hurts_ him. 

“It wouldn’t be smart.” She tries to laugh to ease the tension, to ease the despair around them. Clarke’s hands are shaking as she strokes her thumb under his eyes, almost as if she’s trying to remember the way he looks like. “My mom would catch on, and I don’t—_you_ don’t need to deal with the consequences.” 

There she goes, always putting him first when she’s the one in trouble. 

Bellamy’s eyes begin to water, and before his vision becomes blurry; his hands trial down her sides as he’s met with the soft material of her sweater. He makes multiple notes in his head, especially the way she squirms in a particular spot above her hip bone when he touches her. 

He’s always anticipated their first time together, and wonder how fast she’d melt in his embrace when his fingers are gentle against her olive colored skin and she’d react if he touched her in that spot that made her squirm because she’s sensitive. _Now it would never happen_. He bunches the material of her sweater in his hand, pulling her as close as he can to his chest. 

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Bellamy doesn’t have control over his emotions anymore as his voice cracks and he could feel tears building in the corner of his eye. 

“You need your mother, Bell.” She tells him, her fingers numb as she wraps them around his neck carefully. “You need Octavia, and I’ll be _damned_ if I tear you away from them.” Clarke’s tone is fragile, soft as she realizes how painful the truth can be. 

_She’s doing what she has to do_. 

“I know—I _know_ that, Clarke.” Bellamy takes a second to pause, so his hands could rest in the hollow of her neck. Her skin is warm, opposite to his because he gets cold when he’s nervous or scared. He knows she’s right, that he can’t be selfish. 

In that moment, he’s terrified of losing her when she’s slipping away. 

“You aren’t stupid, Bellamy.” Clarke encouraged, when he can’t find the words to reply because she knows him too well. On instinct, her fingers tangle in the ends of his black curls that fall loosely in the back of his head. “Don’t think about me, think of _Octav_—“ 

“I am!” Bellamy snapped, although it wasn’t so much of anger or directed at her. His throat was burning with tears, as the effort of keeping himself composed was straining. He’s been worried about his sister ever since the day she was born, he’s been scared for his mother’s execution since the day Octavia was _born_.

He didn’t want to apologize for loving Clarke, not when she was the best thing to ever happen to him. “Of course I want my family safe, Clarke.” He says it as if her doubt could be washed away immediately. Suddenly, he inches closer to his face and inhales sharply. His heart stung, “And that includes _you_.” 

“If anything happens to you,” Clarke began, and shamelessly nuzzled against his hand. (She would walk away no matter what, so forgive her for wanting to remember what it was like to be touched). She shook her head at the thought, “It would ruin me.” 

He knows it goes both ways.

“I know.” Bellamy says against the shadow of her lips, and sighs. He doesn’t want to think about how she won’t be able to talk to him much when she leaves his hallway that night, or imagine how empty his bedroom would be without Clarke’s laughter. _So he doesn’t_. Instead he thinks of how she’d be safe from her mother’s daunting questions, and how his mother wouldn’t need to worry. 

Maybe, he could get Wells to keep him informed about her. 

“What if I see you when I’m working?” He stares into her blue eyes, and he’s never seen the ocean but he’s sure that the color doesn’t even begin to compare to the prettiest seas. It would make him feel better if they spoke about the possibility. 

He still had a job to do. A job that required him to be in her ward for most of the day—and the invisible knife seemed to twist repeatedly into his chest, going deeper and deeper until he lets out a soft gasp. 

Clarke has kept herself composed with no tears, but when he reminds her that she would still see him when they couldn’t be together....A few tears form and fall down her cheeks. She relishes in the warmth of her emotion, until Bellamy is the one to wipe them away with the pad of his thumbs and mumbles to himself. 

“You can’t talk to me,” She shuts her eyes to avoid looking at him, she couldn’t face him with saying impossible words. 

_It has to be this way_. 

Bellamy thinks of all the things he won’t be able to do with her—eat lunch with her and Wells, or steal her away for a few hours when her apartment is empty so she could have some company—just to name a few. 

For now, he knows he’s allowed one thing. 

He nods in response, even if it’s the one thing he hates the most about this whole situation. He would do anything to make her happy, and if this was _it_, then he couldn’t fight that. 

Bellamy leans in, the hallway silent as he could only hear the sound of his last breath before placing his lips against Clarke’s. She froze, and usually he could pull away before she caught on and kissed him back so that it doesn’t get awkward—but he couldn’t let her go without confessing his love for her for the final time. 

He had no idea how long he would have to be away from her, if he could ever hold her in his arms _again_. His thoughts are too clouded by how much he wants to remember the good times, even this moment when she’s so close to him. 

His hands relax against the collar of her sweater, letting her know it was okay to act surprised to his kiss. He wouldn’t let go, not until she had a goodbye kiss to look back on. 

“Let _us_ have this,” Bellamy assured. He knew how they were both feeling, they were hurting and hearts torn open and broken to pieces. She would be the one to hold his heart with care, because he trusts that someday they could be together again. In a place where there’s no rules, no one to tell him that he had to choose between his girlfriend or his sister. “Then you could go, and walk away from me.”

It happened so fast, the way their lips meet again. Clarke let’s her injured arm fall to her side, so she doesn’t get the impulse to wrap it around his neck. Her other hand formed a tight grip on the back of his neck to keep him in place as she kisses him back with a force she didn’t know she had inside. His lips are harsh against her own, gliding softly only when he pulls away slightly to regain a breath. She barely pulls away, wanting rather to pull away gasping for air other than losing the memory of this moment because it went by too fast. She steps closer, feeling content when Bellamy doesn’t notice the small movement, even when their feet touch. 

She’s always thought she was sneaky around him, but just a few seconds later, his left hand trails down her injured arm and avoids the bandage around her elbow. Bellamy makes sure to press his lips harder against her’s, trying to part her lips with his tongue so she’s distracted enough to notice. His hand slips into her’s, interlocking their fingers in a loose hold so neither of them feel the need to pull away because their love is _enough_. 

_This was their last kiss_. So, naturally she thought that her face was hot because she was blushing with the intensity of his mouth against her’s—but then, Bellamy covers his fingers with the material of his sleeve and she feels him wipe the tears that fell under her eyes—and she doesn’t know what to do. She pulls away after a sweet peck of her lips on his, and looks down to the floor to avoid talking about anything further. 

“One of us has to be strong,” She knows that he’s talking about her, but after one year of dating Bellamy; there’s no uncertainty in her mind that he’s the strongest person she’s ever met. He doesn’t shy away from getting her to listen to what he has to say, so he tilts her head up with a careful sweep of his index finger against her jaw. He adds on once they’ve locked gazes, “I’ll learn as time passes, to avoid doing what I’d do if we were in a relationship.” 

He tried to sound as convincing as possible, because he knows it sounds impossible to _actually_ mean what he’s saying. 

“I love you,” Clarke whispered, eyes fluttering shut so he doesn’t have to see her cry once more. Her jaw clenched hard to keep from showing any visible signs of her trembling, “I love you _so_ much.” She hates to have to do this, she hates it more than she’ll ever admit. 

“Always.” It’s a simple answer, he knows that. But, his voice is starting to become hoarse and he’d rather save his show of emotion until after she walked away. _Until this becomes real_. He steps back and wipes under his eyes just in case he was unaware of any of his own tears slipping away without him noticing, and he forces himself to look away from the girl in front of him. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke startled him with the sound of her voice, and it’s the first time she’s ever apologized to him. “I’m sorry for being so careless that my mother got suspicious.” What she really wanted to say was, _I’m sorry for how we had to end things_. 

For what it was worth, Bellamy thought they’d never end their relationship like this either. With both of them so unwilling to break, so in love with each other that he can’t think of anyone else that comes close to the way he loves her.

“Don’t be,” It was his best attempt to smile, to let her walk away with a grin instead of his overwhelming tears. Then he grew serious, his tone strong and convincing. “You were having fun and things happen sometimes, so please don’t blame yourself.”

_Please, don’t be sorry for falling in love with a guy like me_. 

She nods, and both of them visibly fight the urge to hug one last time—to feel their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s bodies, to feel the intensity of their heartbeats together because the scenario was so unbelievable, how did they come to this?—but they don’t act on it. 

If he does, he would never be able to let go of her. 

If Clarke runs into his arms, she would let him take her into his apartment and lock themselves in his room until the last possible second. 

So they don’t _act_. 

Bellamy turns around so that he doesn’t have to watch her leave and walk down the hallway and away from his apartment. He focuses on the barely functioning clock in the center of the wall that hung above the opposite set of doors, focused on the ticking of time passing by. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but there’s an ache in his legs and his back stiff when he finally opens his door to walk inside. 

_Clarke’s gone_. 

In the comfort of his home, he muffled a loud sob into the sleeve of his long sleeved shirt once he remembered that Octavia could hear him. He knows he won’t sleep, so he lets his back stumble against the closed door and he slides down until his body hits the cold metal floor. 

He hides his face into his curled knees and lets himself _finally_ feel the emotions he’s been holding back since he realized that Clarke had broken up with him. 

_Confusion_. 

_Hurt_. 

Yet, he’s still _so_ in love with her. 

Eventually, a few hours pass and Bellamy stopped caring about Octavia waking up to hear him crying, or the soft question of her asking him if he’s alright. He doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore, and he feels empty because he gave her his heart a long time ago. 

She still has it. 


End file.
